One Piece: The Vast World Spins Away
by A.D. Aldous Dragon
Summary: The vast world will not stand idly by while the Straw Hats train. It must spin, spin away and away, and so while the world's eyes move on from the Whitebeard War, a young man tries his luck, going up to one of the most feared men in the world. And even if he succeeds, will he find his place in the New World or will his inexperience cost him? OCs.


**One Piece: The Vast World Spins Away**

******A/N: **This story continues after the end of the Whitebeard War and more specifically three weeks after it. The story in here will coincide with the manga so the characters in here will not meet with the Straw Hat Pirates until two years later, which I hope I will be able to expand this story to that point. Enjoy!

**Summary: **For two years, the Straw Hats will train and will come stronger as ever. But the world will not stand idly by while they pump themselves up. It must spin, spin away and away, and so while the world's eyes move on from the Whitebeard War, a young man tries his luck and goes up to one of the most feared men in the world. And even if he succeeds, will he find his place in the New World or will his inexperience cost him? OCs.

_**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece and its associated content.**_

* * *

_Narrator: Meanwhile at some city in some country in the Grand Line,_

The usual hype and buzz of the port city at noon was unusually suppressed, as the crowds that thronged the streets of their home city were silently gazing upon a pair of conspicuous individuals beside a number of crates in the center of town. At the sight of them, much surprised whispering and speculating went through the watchers, but not a single one of them dared to raise their voice a decibel more, out of fear of the infamous man sitting on one of the crates, reading through a newspaper while commenting on recent affairs to his standing subordinate. Besides, if the ex-Shichibukai's reputation was true, that man could easily annihilate cities if anyone was to anger him sufficiently. And not a single person less than an army would be able to stop him.

Such was the fear of the pirate-turned-Shichibuki-turned-pirate Crocodile, who simply ignored the attention the city was giving to him.

Tall as he was intimidating, the sitting man chewed thoughtfully on the end of his buck cigar as his drooping yet fierce eyes scanned through the headline article of the paper in hand, narrowing further at the picture of a familiar bandaged boy, holding his namesake straw hat against his chest, with the Marineford base being built back up behind him. This was of course, not without several sword-wielding Marine goons chasing after him as he apparently leaves the scene.

'I clearly recalled that little brat leaving that same place in a very different state,' Crocodile mused as he recalled the white-eyed unconscious Monkey D. Luffy held under the arm of Crocodile's fellow ex-Shichibukai Jinbei, the little pirate's mouth opened wide in a silent scream, created in response to the death of his brother, 'Fire Fist' Ace, in the Whitebeard War just three weeks ago. 'Well, he looks much better this time though,' Crocodile thought as he looked back onto the picture.'So the brat came all the way to save his brat brother, only to have his worthless brat brother die on him. And to top it all off, I have to settle with my revenge being left unfinished forever.'

Crocodile could only grind his jaw in barely hidden fury, his teeth chewing angrily into his cigar. Yes, it was the very highlight of the Whitebeard War: Whitebeard is dead. The only problem for Crocodile: it was not by his own hand. Or hook, the pirate mused as he hefted his golden prosthesis against his leg, looking back the first and only time that the hook has gotten close to Whitebeard's neck, only to have it being diverted away by a certain steaming Straw Hat. It boils _his_ blood to remember the intervention. Yet, Crocodile had helped the little Straw Hat escape in the first place, out of spite for the Marines. Even so, Crocodile still could not understand whether he regretted his actions.

Regret or not, it appears that Luffy was not appreciating the living chance that he was given, if the newspaper was anything to go on.

"It's only been three weeks since the war." Crocodile muttered under his breath, lifting up his face just enough to glance at his subordinate. "They just barely escape death...and what are they doing now?"

"They've got to be up to something. If not, they're just crazy."

"You think so, Daz?" Crocodile smiled as he addressed his stoic agent, Daz Bones. Standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, the sole remnant of Crocodile's Baroque Works organization looked pretty striking in his black suit, which was - Crocodile thought – a much better replacement for the prisoner clothing that they had gained from their time in Impel Down. Stern as always, the previously-named Mr 1 scanned the crowd around them with fierce watching eyes, his right one giving brief uncontrollable twitches, a result from an injury that gave the scar just above it.

His survey round finished, Daz turned back to answer his superior, his defined face showing little emotion. "Straw Hat is wounded and wounds don't heal that easily, don't you think so?"

"Hmmhmmhmm..." Crocodile laughed with a wicked smile, in stark contrast to Daz's steel-like expression. "You smart ass! Are you being sarcastic to me?"

In response, Daz remained silent.

"I'm healed anyway. In fact..." Crocodile said as he finally stood back up, a wave of muttering surging through the wary crowd at this new movement. He paid them little attention. "I'm gonna head back to the sweet old New World. You coming?" Crocodile offered to his listening colleague, his trademark grin already knowing what Daz was going to say.

"Of course." Daz agreed with no hesitation, earning a heartened laugh from Crocodile.

* * *

Meanwhile, as the two were in the middle of their conversation, a hooded individual watched the duo from the camouflage of the crowd, his yellow eyes frowning at what he can hear about their conversation. His source was right. 'Crocodile and Daz Bones are indeed intending to head to the New World,' the stranger thought as he edged closer and closer towards the duo, until he found himself standing at the very border of the crowd. Immediately, his instincts told him that his covering garb against the summer-clothes-wearing people would immediately make him stick out like a sore thumb. Despite that, the man clenched his fists in retaliation, silencing his mental alarm bells with the pain of his nails digging into his flesh.

"I cannot step down. Not now, when I am so close to him..." Noticing that Daz Bones' eyes were suddenly glancing towards him, the stranger knew that there was already no turning back and so he took a step forward.

* * *

"Who are you?" Daz Bones quickly turned towards the silent man approaching them out of the crowd, who quickly recoiled away from this perceived daredevil. Daz knew that it was unlikely that a bounty hunter would have already tracked them down in such a short period of time, with the lack of an actual bounty issued adding weight to his doubts. However, with experience from the Straw Hat Pirates, Daz understood that even pirates could be a threat to them. Even if this pirate was weak, the buzz that a fight could produce would practically become a homing beacon for the marines, who would undoubtedly swarm here like flies, pouncing on a chance to have Crocodile back behind bars.

Over his dead body, Daz reassured himself. Noticing that there was no response from the hooded stranger, deep creases formed on Daz's brows as he took a threatening position, his superior height resulting in him overshadowing the still hidden man. "I will say this one more time. Who are you?" Apparently lacking any sufficient interest, Crocodile ignored what was happening beside him, his eyes continuing to scan through the newspaper in his hand.

For a moment, the man's mouth, the only thing visible from under his hood, opened to speak but almost immediately after, its shivering lips shut close without uttering a sound. 'He's nervous. What a fool,' Daz felt himself shaking his head in resignation at the sad sight before him. This was probably some little inexperienced upstart trying to make it big in the Marine's books by trying his hand at capturing an important criminal. It was a fine logical plan but what it lacked was an effective means of capture, a little detail that most rookies always miss out. Not that this one will remember about it.

"You've lost your chance."

The figure could barely react as Daz shot forward, a bright sheen suddenly covering his muscular upper arm. "Shit!" With the precious few moments he had, the figure, his voice finally speaking, ducked his head just millimeters below Daz's slashing arm. As he looked up towards his assailant's weapon of choice, the sheen on the 'arm' ceased for a moment to reveal a silvery-white surface that had replaced Daz's dark brown skin and black fabric.

Steel.

Damn it, hesitation had screwed him up big time. As he hurriedly jumped away from the pausing Daz, he hurriedly lifted up his hands in a shakily peaceful gesture. "Wa-wait! I'm not your enemy! I'm a pirate just like you!" This is not happening. This should not be happening. Curses to the lump in his throat. All he wanted to do was-

"And you expect me to believe that?" Daz's frown deepened as his arm, now a pseudo-blade with the outer side flattened into steel, flexed. "Sure, I'll give you points for dressing up all cloaked up and all, but unless you are a revolutionary, which I highly doubt, there is nothing for a pirate to be scared about on this island. There is barely any marine presence here. So either you are some idiot pirate too scared to show his own face or, more likely, you are a bounty HUNTER!" Voice rising to a cry, Daz lunged at the figure again, his hand thrusting towards his target's chest.

'His fingers!' Adrenaline pumping through his veins, the unfortunate man hurriedly side-stepped the steel tips of the steel man's fingers, before spotting that he was wide-open. Just in time too, as he jumped out of the reach of the swiping arm, the arm's inner side having turned into steel blades right when it had jabbed at him a moment ago. Daz did not relent however, as his other arm came slicing in to compensate. This time, Daz knew that the figure was not fast enough to step away. A collective yell of horror and fear ran through the watching crowd, who have keeping in step with the two combatants, forming a wide circle around them.

Crocodile flipped a page.

Daz could not believe his eyes when a blue blade-shaped aura formed around his opponent's raising arm, colliding against his falling steel appendage. "RANKYAKU...UDE BUDO: KEN!" For a moment, sparks flew as the two blades grinded against one another, neither giving way to the other.

"What is...THIS?" Daz's eyes widened for the first time since he came to this island, as he felt the wind from the clash brushing cold sweat off his face. His eyes widened even further when he realized that the same wnd had lifted up his opponent's hood, allowing Daz to have a clear view of his face. However, all he saw then was a messy mop of blonde hair swaying in the wind before noticing the man's leg rising up below the clashing arms.

"Rankyaku!" The world spiraled around Daz as he rolled to the side, but his eyes were still sharp enough to see the single blue blade shooting through the air, cutting right through the spot the assassin had been standing at before. Almost immediately, Daz recognized the attack, having seen the standard variety too often in his times as an assassin. Sometimes, he would see a few freelancers use it before but the most prominent practitioners of the technique and its other Rokushiki abilities were all in a certain World Government assassin group he had crossed paths with once a long time ago.

"A CP9 member?" Daz asked as he picked himself back up, straightening the tie of his suit.

"Don't be silly, Mr. 1." Daz nearly jumped as Crocodile's voice shouted out from behind him. Having finished from his reading, Crocodile had finally taken notice of the fight happening beside him. "That trash of an organization was outlawed by the Government a few months back, thanks to the intervention of that Straw Hat brat." Demonstrating his agitation on remembering Luffy, the newspaper in Crocodile's one hand began to disintegrate on contact, the resulting grains dropping into a small sand pool. Crocodile did not notice his little act, his dull eyes looking past Daz, towards the individual standing before them. Dust and sand, blown up in the air by the wind, blurred some of the individual's features, leaving only his blonde hair and yellow eyes. "So either you are some CP9 flunk, or you just had a little training in Rokushiki, which might I remind you, has only used by those Marine numbskulls. So either way, my impression of you is not looking too good."

A cautious gesture came back in response, as the man slowly relaxed from his battle stance, his eyes shifting between the now relaxing Daz and the smiling Crocodile. "So, would you like to improve your impression a little bit, stranger, before I allow Daz to finish the job?" Crocodile smiled even wider when the individual responded to his question with a wave away of the dust-screen, fully revealing himself for the duo to see.

Slightly shorter than Crocodile himself, the individual's pale face was slightly long, with a defined jawline and minimally sunken cheeks. His yellow-pupil eyes, wide and slightly bright with youth, had a distressed look behind his black-rimmed glasses. His hair, platinum-blonde, was a mess on his head, with little to no sign of a pattern in their rugged style. Beneath his old brown robes, the young man wore a simple black T-shirt, with white jeans that had knee-caps sewn into them. Strapped across his back was a sack-like pack, which was decently sized for a travel pack. 'Probably no older than 30,' Crocodile mused as he finished his scan of the individual from head to toe. There was an average amount of muscularity in the man and he did not seem to be very much of a threat.

Just like Luffy back then. Crocodile felt his eye twitch.

Visibly uncomfortable with showing himself, the man cleared his throat with a preparatory cough. His voice, when it came out, was nervous at first, wavering every time Crocodile gave a tiny movement, be it his eyebrow, his cigar or his hand. "My...name...is...Corand Huntington. I...I..."

"You what?" Crocodile sharply interrupted, his voice laced with growing annoyance. "Hope to arrest me with your stammering voice? Speak up!"

Shocked by the sudden demand, the man named Corand stood silent for a few seconds, his fists shaking in a desperate attempt to control himself. Unfortunately for him, his attempts were just not fast enough. Clearly not having the patience to watch on, Crocodile shook his head with an exasperated sigh, breathing out a waft of smoke from his cigar. "You should have prepared yourself better before you came finding me, Mr. Huntington." As he turned his coated back to hide his face away, Crocodile's voice suddenly turned smooth, and murderously cold. "Daz...Kill him."

"Wait! Wait!" Alarmed, Corand hurriedly got over his nerves and continued in his stumbling voice, speaking fast enough to cause the readying Daz to pause from lunging. "I-I'm a pirate. Or soon to be. _I-I-I just want to join your crew!_" Unbelieving what they are hearing, a collective gasp went through the entire crowd as they subsequently descended into hasty whispers, with their content ranging from insanity to suicidal tendencies.

"This is a joke. I'll end him no-"

"Hold it, Mr. 1. If it is a joke, it is an interesting joke." Crocodile, interest piqued by the sudden revelation, turned his head to watch the blonde man babbling on uncontrollably, an amused smile on his face.

"Y-You are going to the New World, right? I mean I mean, sure you are. You are Crocodile after all. An ex-Shichibukai. Of course the simple Grand Line would not be enough for the likes of you. I-I..." His rattling voice finally lowering into a whisper, Corand suddenly went unnaturally quiet, prompting Crocodile to raise his eyebrow. Still against his sides, Corand's fists begin to clench like never before, expanding veins now fully visible under his pale skin. His breathing at first was shallow and hurried, as if he was hyperventilating right there then, but as he stopped talking and started brooding, his breathing slowed and relaxed.

Then fists unclenched. Breathing halted. The shaking stilled. Corand had decided. When his voice came back, the rapid incoherence within it before had disappeared, replaced by a conviction that Crocodile had only seen in one other person before. His teeth bit ever deeper into his cigar.

"Take me with you. To the New World."

**So what do you think? If you like it please leave a review.**


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